Fall Away
by Aki-Chan04
Summary: The epilogue/sequel/continuation/whateveryouwanttocallit to The Lost Girl! It's been 3 weeks and the pilots have moved bases. But things aren't going so well for Alison and Duo... Now up - chapter 3! What the heck happened last time, and why does Heero wa
1. Don't Fall Away

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. sigh One can only wish… 

AN: Well! After much revision and rewriting and consulting and… well, after lots 'o' stuff, here it is! The first part of what was originally the "epilogue" to The Lost Girl. It's really more of a filler story (hint, hint) so I can get things where they need to be… 

That being said, if you haven't read The Lost Girl, well, I don't care, but you might be a little confused. ;)

So you're not completely lost, about 3 weeks have passed since the end of Lost Girl. 

Fall Away

Part 1

Life wasn't bad. We had moved bases two weeks ago – since the OZ party had found the complex in Tokyo once, they could find it again. We were now situated at one of Quatre's factions' hangars out in the desert, in the middle of nowhere; hopefully they couldn't track us here. The pilots – well, at least all of them except Duo – were running regular missions now, usually a couple of times a week and spending their off time repairing or upgrading their Gundams. Duo had a new Deathscythe model under construction and was working dutifully each day to complete it so he could begin running missions again. 

Life wasn't bad.

It just wasn't great, either.

I didn't feel like I quite fit in and what was more, I felt like I was a burden, and a fault. If I had had my memories, I could have gotten the mainframe done on a new Gundam for Duo in less time than it had taken Wufei to overhaul Shenlong's flame-thrower system. 

At least, that's what I had overheard Trowa tell Quatre. 

The smaller blonde had, of course, violently defended me at the time. He'd said it wasn't my fault that I couldn't remember, and that they had gotten along before me so my present lack of abilities shouldn't be seen as such a big loss. 

I didn't agree. I knew it was my fault Duo had no Gundam in the first place, and more so my fault that he didn't have my help in constructing a new one. I spent my days down in the bay, watching intently as he worked through schematics and systems, slowly building up the frame and armor for his new suit. 

Things had been coming back to me, spontaneously. Popping up out of nowhere: random circuit configurations and servo links. Sometimes I suddenly knew what he was doing. Other times I had to pester Duo every two minutes because the simple power readout he'd let me work with wasn't linking up right. It was unnerving, and despite Duo's good nature, I was beginning to feel worthless most of the time. 

It was also a bit scary, still, having random knowledge pop up in my head. It was mostly linked to what I was working on, but sometimes memories - real memories, people, places, sounds, smells - would come back, and it was like I would blank out for a moment. Twice I had blinked back into the real world to find Duo peering worriedly down at me, waving his hand in front of my face.

__

memories are just where you laid them  
drag the waters 'till the depths give up their dead

But I was never going to get it all back, and I knew that. Duo knew that, and so did the other four pilots. 

I was sick of it. I was sick of being this burden - they had let me stay before only because I was so good with their suits; Quatre assured me daily that I was now a part of the group and that I was their friend, that they all wanted me to stay. 

__

what did you expect to find?

Quatre seemed to want me to stay. I didn't think Heero wanted me to stay. I didn't really think Wufei did either. Trowa seemed relatively impassive. 

__

was there something you left behind?

And Duo was scaring me. 

He was still the hyperactive, talkative and cheerily annoying boy that he had been from the first time I could remember him, but there was something else. Some kind of sadness, some kind of almost... hatred that I could see in his blue eyes when he glanced at me sometimes. 

But I knew what that was for, too. 

I couldn't remember *us*. If there had been much of an us. I had to admit, I was pretty darn attracted to the boy. But it was strange. It just didn't seem right - any time one of us would even joke, even laughingly mention the word "love" or something like it in passing, a wall slammed down between us. 

I could tell it hurt him, and somewhere, deep inside, it hurt me too. 

I was still living with him, in a small suite in the new safehouse adjacent to the hangar, like I had been when this whole thing had begun. He'd said that he didn't want me to be alone, that he was worried about me. 

I'd catch him looking at me with a strange look in his eyes, just sitting there watching me read, or attempt to cook, or something. It was unnerving - we'd talked, but we hadn't really *talked*. Both of us were dancing around something, and sooner or later it was going to come back and blow up in our faces. I just knew it. 

And he was having nightmares. I could tell – I could hear him screaming from his room next to mine sometimes. He couldn't have been sleeping much; he was constantly tired – he went through two pots of coffee himself on a regular morning. I'd wake up in the middle of the night to find him still awake; it would be 3:30, 4:30 in the morning and he'd be sitting there, staring at the blank TV screen. 

He didn't know I knew. I wouldn't say anything when I found him awake – I'd just sneak back to my room and wish there was something I could do. I couldn't bear to leave him out there alone and hurting, but I didn't know how to fix it. I was afraid I was only going to make it worse, and so I said nothing. And that was hurting me almost as much as those nightmares had to be hurting him. 

And in the morning he'd bounce in, kidding me and poking fun all over again. But I could see it somewhere in his gaze – there was something there. So much pain. 

I *wanted* to be able to do something. But I couldn't think of a way to fix this. And at this rate, we weren't going to last much longer. 

***

"Hey, sleepyhead, time to get up and get to work on my new Deathscythe. I can't believe you're still asleep. Don't you have priorities?" Duo poked his head into Alison's dark room, making sure to let the light from the hall flood in and illuminate the bed. 

The lump on the bed groaned and rolled over, her green eyes blinking in the brightness. 

"I never thought anyone could sleep so much before I met you, have I told you that?" he joked, grinning. She eyed him warily.

"Only every couple of days. What time is it?" she asked. He stole a quick glance at his watch. 

"Five-thirty." 

"You're insane!" she cried and pulled the covers back over her head. 

He bounced into the room, being sure to do so loudly. He bounded over and then onto the bed, careful not to squish her as he did so. He peeled back the covers to see her looking at him with wide, surprised eyes. 

"What the –"

"Get up!" he whined. 

"Okay!" 

She slid quickly out from underneath him; he could see her face beginning to turn red as she dashed out of the room. He heard the bathroom door close loudly seconds later. 

He sighed. It just wasn't the same. He couldn't do this anymore. 

He loved her. He had tried to tell her, in any way he knew how, but she wouldn't listen.Well – that wasn't true, he supposed. He hadn't really told her in every way. He hadn't tried telling her in words. 

But he wasn't good at words like *that*, and she wasn't either. It seemed ironic, really, that the two biggest loudmouths around (he being the bigger of the two, of course) couldn't tell each other something as simple as three little words. But any time any of them would even mention something close to a word of commitment, of real caring, something slammed down and neither of them could say anything more. She just ran away, and most of the time, he ran away too. The closest he had come to telling her was in the hospital room just after she'd woken up. But even then… 

He suddenly hadn't been able to do it. And he still couldn't.

Would she even understand it anymore?

__

don't you remember anything i said when i said  
don't fall away, and leave me to myself

Would she even mean it, if she said it now?

He missed her – he missed her a lot, and he knew that she was never really coming back. There were moments – flashes when her eyes were suddenly the eyes of the girl he'd known before. But then those eyes would disappear, and there would be confusion and fear in them again. They were hidden well, but he knew all about hiding things like that. They were still there. 

__

don't fall away and leave love bleeding  
in my hands, in my hands again

And all he had was this love, this thing he had before, and it was dying, bleeding to death in his hands. The nightmares were only making it worse. 

He shook his head; he didn't even want to *think* about those.

But the fact remained. 

She didn't remember. But he did. 

And he couldn't do a thing about it. 

__

love lies bleeding…


	2. In My Hands

Disclaimer: Not mine. Perhaps unfortunately, most likely fortunately. Not mine. 

AN: Sorry this is short, but I need to make Part 3 decent-sized too! 

Fall Away

Part 2

I hurried down the metal hallways of the hangar buried beneath the desert sands, bright lights dimmed due to the early morning hour. 

It was six-fifteen; by the time I had gotten out of the shower, Duo was gone. I felt terrible – like his absence had torn the cold hole in my soul deeper. Like he was telling me something. 

I hoped he wasn't. 

I watched my feet pound on the metal floor, left, right, left, right, lef – 

*SLAM!*

"Hey! Watch where you're going, onna!" 

I looked up at the thing I'd just run into. It was a rather grouchy-looking Wufei, peering down at me through narrowed eyes. 

I knew I should tell him that I was sorry, that I hadn't meant to run into him. But somehow under his gaze any apologies I had formulated withered and died, and I was left speechless, staring up at him, my entire body frozen, still in the shock and horror of being left alone like that. 

He looked at me, as if wondering why I hadn't apologized for being the jerk I was. 

"Hmph. After Maxwell, I suppose," he muttered to himself before sidestepping me and continuing down the hall, his footfalls almost silent, startlingly different from my pounding feet. 

I turned and watched back retreat. 

What had he meant by *that*?

"Hey! What do you mean?!" I called after him before I realized what I was doing, not knowing why my voice was working now and not before. 

He stopped and turned around, face still showing clear annoyance. 

"What?" 

"What did you mean?" I asked again, not knowing why I was making him explain himself, I was going to get myself killed if I annoyed him any further – 

His eyes narrowed even more. "I don't need to explain myself to you, *woman*," he snapped before turning and leaving. 

I stood there. I was confused, and there was something cold tearing at me. I turned back towards the elevator that led down to the bay. 

I didn't really want to talk to Duo now. I kind of just wanted to lie down and cry. 

I sighed and turned back, heading for our room at a much-reduced pace. Maybe that's what I would do. 

I turned the corner a couple of minutes later, and again hit something tall and flesh-feeling. 

"What the *hell* are you doing?!" 

I looked up to see an even angrier Wufei staring down at me – I'd managed to beat all odds and run head-on into him again as he stood in the hall, fixing something on one of the wall panels. His hands were buried in wires and the grey panel cover lay at his feet. His face, however, was turned towards me and scowling, more so than I had seen in a while. I dimly supposed I could see why. 

Again I couldn't bring myself to speak, to apologize. I could feel my eyes burning with the need to cry, but I was not going to cry in front of Wufei, of all people. That really would be suicide. 

His gaze stiffened and I felt like ice beneath it. "Weren't you going the other way?" he growled. 

I knew he still didn't trust me. Quatre had tried to convince me that Wufei didn't think I was an OZ spy, but I could see it in his gaze every time the Chinese pilot looked at me, hear it in his voice every time his icy tones were directed at me. More so when they weren't. The pilot, if he had ever trusted me before all of this, most certainly no longer did. He watched me every step I took, waiting for me to slip up so he would have an excuse to slit my throat and be done with me. 

I nodded numbly in response to his question. 

"What about Maxwell?" 

I blinked. "Huh?" The quasi-word escaped my mouth before I could stop it, and I was left staring stupidly up at the black-haired boy. 

He sighed, like he didn't have the time to get caught up in my affairs. Like he definitely didn't want to. Like he didn't know why he wasn't currently disemboweling me. 

"Weren't you going after him? He stormed down the hall not ten minutes ago; I merely assumed – apparently mistakenly so – that you were going after him to apologize for whatever you did this time." 

I stared up at the boy in shock. *This time*?

"Wh- what?!"

He looked like he did not want to be having this conversation. He sounded like he did not want to have this conversation. 

*I* did not want to have this conversation. He was – he was presumptuous and condescending and he hated my guts. 

"I – I didn't – argh!" I was aware of the first hot tear rolling down my face before I nearly tripped over Wufei in my scramble to get around him, to run back down the hallway towards my door. 

I stopped in front of it, the edges blurred by the tears freely streaming down my face now. I did not want to be crying. I did not want to go back in there, either. 

Where else was I supposed to go? I didn't belong anywhere – not here, not in there – 

I sat down outside the door and just put my head on my knees, unable to sob silently any longer. I didn't care how much noise I made. Not anymore. 

"Oi, onna, stop it. Only the weak cry. And it's very annoying," a voice snapped from above me. 

I didn't need to look up to know that Wufei was standing over me, no doubt disgusted with me and seriously contemplating skewering me. 

"Go away!"

"I can't work with you carrying on like that. Stop it." 

"What do you care?!" 

"I already told you. I don't *care*. You're disrupting my work."

I lifted my head stared up at him; he stood above me, arms crossed, looking down at me with a slightly disgusted look. 

That was it. Something inside me snapped, and I had gotten to my feet and pulled back and punched that damned boy right in the face before I knew what I was doing. 

I stood there, staring at my fist as he stared at me with wide eyes. He hadn't expected me to do that. *I* hadn't expected me to do that. 

His gaze hardened and his eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in his face, glinting angrily. "You, onna, just made a huge mistake." 

The first punch he threw hit me square in the right cheek, throwing my head to the side and stinging ferociously. 

But I wasn't going to let an enemy like him do that to me. I ducked the next punch and made to sweep his legs out from under him with a kick; he jumped and would've come down with a hard kick right where I was if I hadn't sidestepped to the left and brought my knee up to meet him. 

He stood there looking at me; I could tell that last kick had done some damage but he wasn't letting it show in the least. I was impressed. 

"I knew you were hiding something," he growled before slamming me in the gut with his own kick, delivered so fast that I didn't have time to dodge. 

At this close range, it hurt, and I was sure I felt some ribs crack. 

I blocked his next couple of punches pretty well, although I was vaguely aware that he was getting to me. I had been losing ground, I noticed, backing up to give with each punch he threw. Soon I was going to hit the wall and then I'd have nowhere to go. 

That was what he wanted. But I could use it against him. 

My back hit the wall, and instead of blocking the next punch I sidestepped it, letting his fist connect with the metal instead of my flesh. He scowled angrily down at me but I pushed him back with another knee to his stomach; he stumbled for a mere second before straightening. 

So I was getting to him. 

A few punches later my mouth tasted of blood, and I spat it out before bringing an elbow down on his shoulder, getting him to move enough so that my back wasn't to the wall. 

"You're holding back," I told him; it was obvious from his movements, the way his hits connected that he wasn't taking this seriously. 

He looked at me, eyes cold and hard and anything but human, anything but merciful. "If that's the way you want it – "


	3. Dead Actors Faking Lines

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. sigh Although if that's the case I don't know how to explain the Wufei sitting in the middle of my floor playing with my Shenlong action figure… ;) Also, I think I forgot to mention it before, but "Hemorrhage" belongs to Fuel. They rock!

Fall Away

Part 3

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

I was aware of sound before I was even aware that everything hurt. But that sensation flooded over me seconds later, and somehow I couldn't bring myself to believe that I was awake. The last time I'd felt like this was when Heero had brought me to Relena's; nothing like that had happened now, so I must be dreaming… 

_Beep… Beep…Beep_… 

"I know you're awake." 

Heero's voice. Cold but even as ever. Maybe I wasn't dreaming. Maybe I could open my eyes… 

I could open one eye, anyway. The left one didn't seem to want to cooperate so well. I saw Heero standing over me – no, over my bed. 

The bed I was tied to. 

I could feel my brow furrow in confusion. Why on earth had they tied me down? And beaten me up, apparently. Was this someone's idea of a sick joke – 

"What…"

"Be quiet," he said, and suddenly I saw the gun in his hand. "If anyone's going to ask questions, it's going to be me."

What? My mind reeled. And *what* was he planning on doing with that?

My stomach churned beneath my horribly aching ribs. It hurt to breathe, and each heartbeat made the left side of my face throb painfully. I really, really wanted to know what was going on. 

"Heero," I tried again, slower, softer, "what happened?" At least I could get a whole sentence out. 

His eyes narrowed the slightest bit – it was barely noticeable. But then he brought the gun up to the side of the bed, resting his hand on the bedrail that my hand had been bound to. 

"You're a traitor, why should I tell you what you already know? Don't pull that on me," he said coolly.

I blinked – at least, with my good eye. What the hell was he talking about? I thought we were over this – or at least over this to the point where Heero wasn't out for my blood anymore. I guessed not. But that still didn't explain what had happened to make me end up tied down to this hospital bed, hurting like I had never, ever wanted to hurt again. 

Then I heard it – Duo's too-loud voice, protesting even more loudly from somewhere nearby. 

"What the hell do you *mean*, I can't go in and see her?! You're nuts! Come on, Quatre, you can't possibly believe Wufei – "

Then Quatre's softer, but definitely strained voice, "Duo, I don't think I know what to believe. But regardless of anything I really think it would be better if you just didn't go in to see her right now." 

"*What*?!"

"Quatre's right, Duo," Trowa's voice said, quiet as ever but firm and in a tone that was not to be questioned. "Look – she did nearly manage to take Wufei out. There's obviously something wrong here; it's better if you just stay out here." 

"What, so I can't watch Heero 'interrogate' her at gunpoint? I know that's what you're doing in there, you asshole 'Perfect Soldier'!" Duo shouted louder than before. 

In here, Heero made no indication that he had even heard him. 

"This is bullshit!" Duo protested to Quatre and Trowa again. 

I heard footsteps – stomping, really, coming this way. Heero's eyes flickered to the door, but his hand didn't move; the gun remained trained on me. 

"Duo!" Quatre called, his voice pleading. 

"Duo, stop." That was Trowa, his voice much less pleading, much more commanding. 

"I am *not* going to stop, and you can't make me stay out – " Duo retorted as he pushed open the door to the room. 

I saw his figure, outlined in the brighter light streaming in from the hall. His face was strained and annoyed, and his eyes were worried. 

There was something else behind that gaze, too. Something I didn't want to believe – 

Heero didn't move; his gaze met the braided pilot and dared him to come any closer. 

"Okay, now, Heero – "

"Leave." 

Duo blinked. "I am *not* going to – "

The gun moved – it went from being pointed at my head to Duo's. 

"Leave," Heero said again. 

"Hey, Heero, come on, it's – "

"I'm not going to tell you again," Heero said as Quatre and Trowa suddenly appeared in the doorway, flanking Duo on either side. 

"Duo, please," Quatre begged; Trowa's grip fastened itself around Duo's left arm. 

He looked down at Trowa's hand, then up at the banged pilot. 

The he turned to the bed, looked at Heero. Looked at me. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and allowed Trowa to steer him out of the room. 

"Duo… " It wasn't more than a whisper on my part; I didn't think he'd heard me. 

His eyes. Something behind his eyes had been dead. He'd given up. I didn't think he even knew it himself. But he had.

__

and i watched as  
you turned away  
you don't remember, but i do  
you never even tried

Heero's gun swung back around to fix itself on my head once again. 

"Now," Heero said. "I'm going to ask you a few questions." 

I let the breath I'd been unconsciously holding go, and closed my eyes. 

__

don't fall away, and leave me to myself

***

Treize Khushrenada hit the END key on the display, closing the communications channel. He swung his chair around to face the large picture window behind his desk, watching the sunlight filter through, hitting the dust in the room before spilling in golden patches on the floor. 

Une was dead. One of the Gundam pilots had shot her before blowing the station she'd been operating to oblivion, along with his own mobile suit. 

He couldn't stand for this. OZ couldn't stand for this. Lady Une had been too valuable, too crucial. Her loss nearly a month ago had really changed things, thrown a wrench in their plans.

He blinked. Was that really it, or were his emotions coloring that thought? No matter – he swiveled back around and propped his elbows up on his desk, thinking. There had to be something he could do. Somewhere he could go from here. 

Wait. There was. 

The girl – Alison. She was still alive, Intelligence told him. Back in the pilots' confidence. A thin smile played across his lips. 

Perhaps this wasn't a completely unsalvageable situation. Aside from the failed operative that had virtually defected to the pilots' side, he still had the other girl, too, at his disposal. Two cards to play, there. And perhaps even a third… 

He hit the CALL button and an image of an OZ-uniformed private immediately snapped up on his screen. 

"Sir!"

Treize smiled. "Get me a secure line to Zechs. And find me Giniko." 

__

memories are just where you laid them  
drag the waters 'till the depths give up their dead

she cries her life is like  
some movie black and white  
dead actors faking lines  
over and over and over again she cries –   


The End

AN: Hey! Don't worry! It's not nearly all over yet! Can't you tell? ;) There are many more surprises headed your way, included a fic set inside The Lost Girl written by my best friend. And, of course, there's always the *real* sequel… It's all comin' atcha in the near future! Let me know what you think!


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